


What's a Puppet Without a Puppeteer

by PsychoneuroticRemedies



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Body Worship, F/F, Gay Sex, Ghost Sex, M/M, Mild Gore, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoneuroticRemedies/pseuds/PsychoneuroticRemedies
Summary: Whenever Bill was defeated, Dipper lost a part of himself. He feels a hopeless pit in his chest that nothing can fill except for the enticing aura of the forest of Gravity Falls. Now year later, post-high school graduate Dipper Pines finds himself at the shack. Alone. Separated from his family and friends he begins to have nightmares of a familiar face, it haunts and tortures him. He wakes up in strange places and finds himself losing all thoughts of sanity.





	1. Just The Beginning

It all started that damned summer. The first one he spent in Gravity Falls, with each and every discovery Dipper and Mabel made, he grew more connected to the small abnormal blip of a town in Oregon. He first noticed the feeling mere days after the defeat of Bill. The aching gape that began to spread through his mind and body. It was like something had been ripped out from within him and left a void he just couldn't fill. It grew worse with each passing day, minute- seconds even- it felt like something inside of him was painfully and slowly dying out. Like a small candle burning its last, desperate length of wick. No matter what Dipper did it would only temporarily ease the growing hole. He would try to read, study, even the usual enjoyment he held in writing in the journals cease to make him happy. Each summer he would return to Gravity Falls, and each summer it would make him feel a little better. It was like whatever was missing inside of him was somewhere in the Falls. He could walk outside of the shack and feel a tug, something calling him to the forest. He never acted on it however, too fearful of what might become of him. Sure he would traverse the forest and study its inhabitants like usual, but never alone. He always made sure to surround himself with Ford, Mabel, or even Wendy or Soos. Anyone who he could trust to snap him out of his daze.

Mason “Dipper” Pines spent the next few years living like that, tip toeing around the deeper parts of the forest where 'he' still lingered. Dipper knew he wasn't gone he could feel it, but every time he tried to talk about it everyone looked at him with concerned or wary faces. They thought he was crazy,feared he was losing his mind. So he stopped bringing the topic up, feigning a sanity that wasn't there, for all he knew he really was losing his mind. It was the twin's first year alone in Gravity Falls, he and Mabel split ways after their graduation from High School. Mabel traveled to study in New York while Dipper let himself fall back into the mindless routine of running the shack for a retired and traveling set of Grunkles. In his very present Dipper was sweeping up after the last set of tours lead by the one and only Soos. Melody was already at home, leaving Dipper alone in the old gift shop to clean and restock. The sun was setting outside and the air was becoming chilled, making Dipper pause his actions to tug the worn cap down further on his head and zip up an equally worn jacket.

The boy had aged well, he and Mabel both did, he grew into his long limbs and slight pudge. Giving him a physique that was burly enough to come across as intimidating if it weren't for his less-than-impressive height. Mabel really did grow into the alpha twin, taller and equally pudgy but in the thick and sought after way, it made her look muscular and strong but soft and rounded at once. Dipper despised his form. No matter how much he ran or hiked or hell didn't eat he never could lose anything. He would be proud to admit he was able to gain some rather toned muscle mass if it weren't for the dark bubble that swallowed those happy thoughts. The 20 year old man, now done with his duty of sweeping moved on to restocking the rows and shelves of hacked gifts and crappy souvenirs. He flinched when the sound of the office door opened, a burst of anxiety and panic washed him before he heard Soos' chipper voice, instantly chilling him again. Soos dawned the old fez cap Grunkle Stan use to where, as well as the classic 'Mr. Mystery' get-up. He twirled some keys in his hand and- after bidding Dipper a good night- headed out. Dipper watched the old car drive off down the dirt patched drive into town, he watched until he saw his tail lights vanish and locked the door of the shack. Casting a long glance to the forest oh so close to him, he could just walk over and touch the trees, or enjoy the familiar feeling of the dirt and grass in his toes- No. No he couldn't he had to stay inside it wasn't safe it would be bad. He nibbled on the nail of his thumb and turned back to stuff the rest of the knick-knacks away. Turning off the lights to the gift shop he traversed into the back to wash up a bit.

He was often alone anymore, being left to his own devices by his traveling uncles, and because Soos and Melody didn't reside actually within the shack he liked to deem it as his bachelor pad. After washing his nail bitten hands and scrubbing out splinters and old scabs from god knows what, Dipper raided the fridge for something to nibble on as he watched TV. He decided on some good old Ducktective and a bowl of stale cereal after a good five minutes of scratching at the barely there scruff on his chin. With a chilly bowl in his hands he sat on the floor next to his Grunkle's favorite chair- he never had the guts to sit in it- somehow the old coot always knew when he did no matter what hemisphere he was sailing in. He sat in a worn and soft pair of pin-striped boxers and a baggy faded red t-shirt. It was half past midnight when he glanced at the clock that sat above the TV set. Yawning into his hand and shifting to stretch out his legs he was just letting his eyes begin to droop as he considered getting up to actually sleep in his real bed. Something he didn't do very often anymore, Dipper often fell asleep in chairs and floors anymore than a mattress. It was when the TV blipped off and the room became a dead and eerie quiet that he jerked upright. Looking up at the black TV screen and equally dark surroundings.

“What the hell?” He muttered, standing up and looking around before wandering slowly into the kitchen. “Is this some kind of power outage? Or shit, did I pay the bill? Wait Grunkle Stan never pays the bill why would it go out now?”

He continued to wonder aloud as he shuffle through drawers in search of a flashlight. He shoved his hand carelessly into one drawer and reeled back with a definitely manly yelp, shoving a bloody thumb in his mouth and groaning at his on idiocy. He just stuck his hand in the damn utensil drawer, so smart Dipper c'mon man. He decided to give up on the flashlight hunt and reach for the old lantern that rested on the window sill. He felt around for the matches atop the fridge and turned the little wick enough to catch a flame to it. Holding it out at arms length he sighed in relief as the kitchen filled with its warm light.

“Maybe I should call Stan and Ford,” The man murmured as he reached around for his- hm. Strange, it wasn't on him he usually always had it with him. Well, maybe he should just head down into the basement and check the circuits maybe he just cut a breaker or something stupid like that. Dipper traveled on bare feet down the cold concrete steps into the basement. It was dark- it seemed abnormally dark for a simple power outage. The light from the lantern barely reached its little fingers out into the inky mass of the cellar. He huffed out a visible cloud of breath and shivered, rubbing his free hand on his upper arm to vainly rub away the forming goosebumps. He had the shuffle around for an uncomfortably long amount of time before he found the circuit box and flipped open its panel on screaming hinges. He should probably fix that. Or Soos could he's better at that stuff. Dipper flipped a few of the breakers and, much to his dismay nothing seemed to happen. He let out a much more aggressive shudder and set the lantern aside to rub his palms together. Why the hell was it so cold? Dipper was just about to give up when he heard a very faint creak from somewhere behind him. His head snapped so fast on his shoulders it popped and he flailed for something to grab as a weapon.

“Who the fuck is there?” He practically squawked. Knuckles pale as he clenched his fists.

It was quiet then. No sound to be heard except for his own panting and creaking joints. Wide doe eyes canned the darkness frantically and as he reached beside him to for the lantern it went clattering to the ground. Extinguishing the small flame and Dipper's only source of warm light, the glass and old metal screeched and cried as it shattered across the floor and Dipper screamed at the noise alone. It seemed all too loud for the current quiet depths of the basement. The boy froze again to look around in the dark, about to speak again when he heard a louder creak right next to him. He spun his body away so fast he stepped right into the glass littering the floor, gasping at the pain shooting up his leg as he hopped quickly to the other side. Only to be met with a creak so close to him again. His heart was hammering away in his chest and he thought he was going to die of a heart attack there and then. It wasn't until something grabbed at his ankle that he screamed for life itself, falling back and scuttling away his back pressed into the damp concrete of the cellar wall where he froze. Panting and gasping, water in his eyes as he looked around for whatever the HELL was in his basement. Suddenly the singe bulb above flickered on and everything went quiet. Even Dipper's heart stopped as he locked eyes with another set just across in the darkness. The bulb was bright enough to allow him to see the dim silhouette of a person the other side of the beam. Dipper wasn't able scream, to speak, he couldn't even breath as he stared at the reflective surfaces of some monster's pupils just feet away from him. All too soon the light flickered and Dipper yelped as the creature got closer in its absence of light. It was still a mere shadow, it looked hunched over and ragged and too skinny to be something actually living. Dipper tried to scream again but he found his voice absent. Seconds seemed like minutes which felt like hours too long as Dipper and this creature just stared at each other. The eyes of the other flickered an eerie light, it was a pale yellow reflection of color, the orbs looked like the eyes of a deer when you shine a light just right at them in the dark.

The creature twitched and Dipper flinched, it seemed to be chuckling a breathless sound as it raised something- its hand?- to its face and all Dipper could do was scream next. As the light went out again and those eyes were inches away from his own. A slender, cold, rotten feeling digit just barley grazed his lips and the creature made a noise. It hissed a gentle “ _shhhh_ ” under its breath. The air from the action blew on Dipper and he shuddered, it was the only warm thing in the cold basement at that moment and Dipper felt himself choke on a sob. He opened his mouth to speak before cold, long hands wrapped around his throat, a mouth was to his ear and hissing that warm breath against his skin as he regained his voice and choked on his screams. Legs spasming against the shadow as it choked the fucking life out of his throat. All he heard was the hissy, itchy breath filled words the monster uttered into his ear next: “ _Time to wake up_ ,” And Dipper screamed again, loud enough to shatter glass as nails slit his throat and blood seeped his clothes.

Dipper threw his body to the floor of his bedroom. Screaming and rubbing at his neck in a blind panic of timid death. There was no blood. No darkness. No cold basement air and hot breaths. Dipper panted as he sat up on his bedroom floor. Looking between himself and the bed and the window that was streaming in rays of early sunlight. He wasn't dead?

“Just...j-just a nightmare? What, but I-” Dipper looked down at his hands, he had a small cut on the side of his thumb. He looked to his foot and saw a few scratches on the sole of one foot. Was it all just that? A nightmare? He put his hands up to his throat and gently prodded the tender flesh. Quickly he scrambled to the bathroom, switched on the light and had to stop from throwing up as he looked at the pale skin of his neck. Two dark hand prints lay there, thin and long and looked gracefully wrapped around his throat. He pressed his back to the wall and suppressed his shudders. All he could do was reign in the oncoming heaving of a panic attack and hold onto his shoulders as he writhed. It wasn't a nightmare. That couldn't have been. It was so real, too real. He had to get help, he had to call Ford or Stan. He couldn't be alone for another night in this god forsaken shack.


	2. Ruin Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dipper is just a nutcase aight, I may or may not upload artwork for this work. Depends.

To say he was resting easy with the sun up was an understatement, he had never felt so secure and happy to see the sun filtering in through the windows of the run down shack. He hadn't been able to cease his pacing, his heels felt bruised from scuffing them around on the hardwood floors. He had gathered candles, flashlights, and anything else that would produce enough light to keep any horrible nightmares away. Thankfully Dipper had the day off from the shack, Melody was working the shop and Soos guiding the gullible tourists around their mystery spots. After he had woken up from his shock and tried to rub away the hand prints on his neck, Dipper found himself checking the very room he had dreamed of. He stepped warily down into the basement, all the lights worked, all the breakers were proper, he had half a mind to think that he would walk on the broken lantern he dreamed of down there. However, upon his arrival he had to take a few deep breaths to reassure himself that it didn't happen, he found no lantern pieces or glass on the cement. With shaky fingers he combed through the thick curls that rested atop his head, tugging at knots enough to make his breath come out in a ragged hiss. The boy trudged back up the stairs to his small collection of candles and batteries he littered the kitchen table with.

The boy sat down in the center of his mess and pulled one of the newer journals into his lap, after Bill had destroyed the originals he had started over with his very own collection. They feigned a similar style to Ford's (aside from the fact Ford's were red and his were blue), the same blank journal pages littered with sloppy thoughts, tussled facts, and sketches of the forest's many creatures. Dipper flipped open the journal's blue covers and found himself a fresh clean page to start. He wrote; “ _Had a nightmare last night, encountered a creature made of shadows I think. It was all claws and bones. Seemed more interested in the scare tactic up until the 'kill'. Its eyes were like an animals._ ” Dipper shuddered at its memory, and before he could recognize it he was hastily scribbling a mass of black smears and two white orbs as eyes in the center of the page. Its skinny claws reaching towards him. He scribbled without thought, bringing the nightmare back to life on the page. “ _The thing felt familiar, its voice rattled something in the back of my head and made my chest feel tight in something similar to Him long ago._ ” Dipper paused to read over his notes, smearing chunks of the pencil's graphite between his fingers. “ _I don't think I'm as alone as I thought I was._ ”

He leaned away and slid the book onto the table, looking over the messy page and nibbled on the pencil's eraser until he felt it break off into pieces, even then he continued to nibble of the chunks of rubber as he locked eyes with the creature's deadened image. What the hell was that thing? Something about it wouldn't leave Dipper be. The way it moved, the way it looked upon him with something akin to remembrance, something about its voice sparked a feeling in the back of Dipper's thoughts. Why did it seem so familiar? He was sure he hadn't had a dream with that thing in it before, he would've remembered that right? As he mulled over his thoughts he pulled his phone from his pocket and checked it's messages. He had a few from Mabel, the usual daily reminders to take care of himself and say hello to old friends for her. A few from Wendy asking about hanging out sometime, something he doubted would actually happen. He made many plans with many people, but he never kept up with them. Something always made him back out and decide to stay home in a quiet bubble of isolation instead. It felt safer than being in the open, than being somewhere he wasn't familiar with.

Dipper's thumb traveled to his contacts and lingered over the number identified by his uncle Ford's name. He nibbled the dead skin of his lip to tiny shreds as he contemplated calling him. Would he really though? Should he disrupt the happy travels of the two brothers just because Dipper had some silly little nightmare? Maybe he was just over reacting as usual, maybe it was just some weird conjuring of his imagination. Perhaps while he was watching Ducktective a late night horror movie had popped on and corrupted his dreams. Maybe he was so disturbed that he unconsciously traveled upstairs to his bedroom and somehow along the way just injured himself in mundane ways? Yeah that sounded perfectly reasonable, right? A deep sigh resonated from Dipper chest as he turned his phone's screen face-down onto the table and rubbed his temples. A headache was forming behind his sleepy eyes and pulsed at the base of his skull. A yawn broke out of his captive throat and rattled his lungs. He allowed his cheek to fall and rest on his open palm. Tonight he would just have to stay awake, maybe he could pull an all-nighter and see if he could catch this illusive monstrosity haunting his dreams. A part of that thought made him shudder, the idea of yet another dream demon lurking about set him uneasy. If this were another Bill-like entity, then he knew it was up to him to destroy ti, just like the last time.

The day passed with relative ease and boredom on Dipper's behalf. He roamed the shack in idle nature, setting around some candles here and there and leaving flashlights in certain places. The most gathered area of candles he had were in his room. Since he was coming back to basically live alone he had decided to move into the upper most room the shack had to offer- the attic room. He had set up a mass of candles more or less in the center of the room. The first thing Dipper had done to his new found bedroom was throwing a large blanket to act as a censor of the window mural of Him. With the thick blanket practically blacking out his room he normally used a variety of candles and lamps to provide his artificial sunlight. His room was that of any shut in soon-to-be college student. Messy with books and dirty linens, socks and underwear thrown into random corners. It was the most comfortable room he had ever found himself residing in however, it was dark and closed off and allowed him to often reside in it for perfect peace.

However, as night approached and the room was beginning to grow even darker with the sun setting Dipper found his anxiety growing. He had a flashlight by his side, his journal in his lap and his trusty knife beside his crossed legs. He sat on the floor in the middle of his circle of candles, he was jotting down notes and simple thoughts, tracking his process. His notes read; “ _Staying up tonight, I've set up candles and flashlights everywhere within reach of me. I've surrounded myself in a protective circle of candles I figured out how yo charm._ ” Dipper chuckled a little, thank you Uncle Ford for the spontaneous magical tips and tricks. “ _As long as I don't allow myself to fall asleep, maybe I can avoid the creature and learn its methods. Hell maybe it has a physical form in the real world and I can manage to spot it._ ” Dipper jerked as his phone vibrated next to him, signaling it was officially dark outside and the hunt was beginning. Dipper glanced carefully around his room, at the darkened corners that his candles' meek flames couldn't reach, he suppressed a shudder as the room seemed to chill around him. He yawned, blinked, and rubbed at his eyes. Looking down he jotted down messily. “ _DONT SLEEP_ ”. He looked up and startled back immediately, his breath catching in his throat as he made contact with those damned deflective spheres in the darkness. He folded his book shut and made himself stand, his knife by his side in a shaky paled grip he sputtered.

“Who are you?” The man put up his best harsh look, lips pressed and feet in a defensive stance. “What the hell do you want?” No response, Dipper scoffs and takes a little shuffle back to create some illusion of distance. “Dammit just answer me I know you can speak.” Dipper began to grow annoyed, the monster was just looking at him. Those blank eyes seemed to be focusing on Dipper, they were twitching from side to side, up and down, looking over the boy's form and putting it to memory. The quiet felt like it dragged on forever before Dipper blinked and the eyes were gone, He would have sighed in relief if it weren't for the feeling of eyes still being plastered on him. He started to scan the room, looking at the dark inky corners that felt like they were closing in and suffocating him. The man's lips parted, readied to speak before a sudden ruffling and fluttering sound came on from behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks as the light of his candles were blown out from the air gusted beneath the heavy blanket of his window as it fell to the wooden floor. Brushing at the back of his ankle his heart stopped in his chest. A heavy red light entered the room, like a single beam that surrounded him. It was like a weight on his back, his eyes traced the shape of the triangle that surrounded him now. He was very careful next, steps heavy and breathing intensified in his ears alongside his rushing blood. When he turned to the window and looked into the great eye that stared blankly back at him. The glass mural felt like a mockery somewhere deep inside of Dipper, he wasn't sure why but something in his chest snapped and his head filled with rage. Water pricked his eyes and he dropped his knife to clench at the air in aggression. “No. No that's not true you're lying. He's gone. We got rid of Him.” Dipper stepped back, he wanted to step out of the scrutinizing gaze and into the darkness. “You can't talk up some- some bullshit like that. You fucking LIAR.” Dipper screamed, bringing his hands up to his face to hide himself, his lungs suddenly couldn't hold in the air and his breathing became panicked. His heart was in his throat and he felt as if he were choking. That hole of blackness that had been growing in himself for years was screaming, it ached and thrashed and ripped him apart from the inside out. Dipper was too sucked into his bubble to realize that the figure of the creature shadowed him now, the shadow of a shadow breaking up the red beams and shielded over the boy in his weakest moment. The creature's head tilted to the side, then the other as it watched.

“He's gone. He's dead. He was ruined.” Dipper chanted like a mantra, each incriminating word made the hole inside of him shred more and put a greater pain on his chest. Dipper felt his reality breaking as his thoughts raced around and- then it stopped. His lungs were full of air, his blood was settled and his heart was beating in its normal place again. He was able to think again to realize he was on his knees, doubled over himself with his head against the floor, but that wasn't all. He shifted, something was- no that _thing_ was doing something. There was a pressure on his chest and he slowly made himself straighten up with the beckoning of his curiosity. His eyes were down on the floor, the red light no longer harming him, shaded in the darkness cast by a monster. His eyes adjusted and looking down, he stuttered a breath to see a shadow specifically on his chest, the figure of a hand being the source of the pressure, alleviating him. That ache in his body was no longer there, it was like that long growing emptiness was simply replaced with an odd warmth and comfort from the shadow replacing it. “Wh-what're you..” Dipper sighed, looking up again the creature was right before him, yellow eyes etching over his form yet again. Before the boy knew what to happen the hand was beginning to pull away, allowing the old ache to come crashing tenfold on him. The poor boy screamed and lurched forward. “No! No make it stopped!” He begged, the creature held a curious gaze and placed the scrawny hand back against Dipper. Another hand came up and held onto the back of his neck. The touch was cold and lingering and Dipper _craved_ it. The comfort was amazing, he hadn't felt such an ease to breathe and function in many years. His head limped forward with deep breath and touched the chest of the shadowed being. “Make it stopped..” He whimpered, his fingers shaking and pale against the floor.

Silence filled the room, all that could be heard was the steadying breath of the breaking boy. Dipper would be content if this were death. To no longer feel the pain and desperate burn inside of himself was a catharsis. The fingers that pressed into his skin seemed to twitch with the soft impression of a petting motion. Deadly nails dragging over barely skin and sending a tingle down his spine. Dipper was about to speak before he felt himself being pressed forward. His body responded to the silent command without his conscious knowledge. His body laid flat on the wood, the floor biting into Dipper's cheek and sternum painfully. The creature seemed to melt into the floor, its arms melted u around dipper. Slinking from the dark floor to wrap around Dipper. The hand on the back of his neck tightened, the hand that was on his chest slid around his side and pressed into the soft spot between his shoulder blades. The man shuddered a weak sob as the comfort washed over him. More limbs painting themselves up from the shadow and dragged across his body. Hands wrapped around his wrists, rested on his thighs and lower back, wrapped across his ankles. It was then the monster decided to grace Dipper with its nail on chalkboard voice again oh so close to his ear that pressed to the floor.

“ _Breathe deep for me,_ ” It hissed. “ _This is gonna hurt,_ ”. Dipper eyes snapped open, his body jerked as a searing pain licked over his skin. The hands felt searing, like hot, melted iron being painted onto him and burning, scarring, marking him. He couldn't scream, he had no voice again at the monster's will and instead he aid in convulsive shudders. It lasted for minutes, hours, for way too long he suffered through the burning before his eyes fluttered shut and a ragged breath was released. His mind going numb and absent in the throbbing pain. “ _Shhhh...shh..now,_ ” The monster's teeth grazed the skin of his ear in a grin. “ _There's a good Pine Tree._ ”

The boy's eyes snapped open to the bright sun bearing down on him. His skin was tingle and his head sloshed like it was full of led. He was face down, in a trashed circle of runed candles and a blanket off to his side. He flexed his fingers and shuddered as the cold joints popped at the sudden movement. He looked around the room from his current angle before he even attempted to move. Sitting up in slow agony, his skin cracked open wounds in the places where the monster had been holding him. As he sat on his knees he looked down to his hands and gasped. On the back of his hands were two dark lined eyes. Black bands wrapped around his wrists, charred looking and so deep a black print it was unnatural. He stood on shaky legs and looked down to find a similar situation on his feet. The tops displayed eyes, heavy bands around his ankles. He limped into the bathroom, his lungs were on fire and his ribs felt broken as he crashed into the bathroom counter. Huffing his breath and dragging his heavy limbs with the leverage of the wall and the counter he righted himself upright to look at himself in the mirror. He stretched out his skin to examine the marks and find what he could on himself. Something large was on his back, it felt huge anyway and he thinks he could see the outer corners of another eye on the nape of his neck. Dipper jumped fast, he ripped off his clothes and threw himself against the shower wall. The cold tile was a relief against the lingering burn in his flesh. He rigged the water to as hot as possible and began to scrub. Scratching at the marks until he bled and ripping at the wounds even more. Black sluffs of skin plopped down between his feet and were sloshed down the drain. Much to Dipper's dismay the black on his skin never faded, if anything it just became darker with the exposure of blood. He shut off the water with a heavy and riddled sigh and had to lean against the tiled wall. Blood tricked down Dipper's fingers, tucked under his nails and clung to the shower wall wherever he touched. That sparked a thought in him.

“Holy shit.” He cursed, leaping- and slipping briefly- from the shower he raced back the space in front of the mirror, he took a breath and stepped back, pressing his back hard into the moist wall. He shivered at the uncomfortable pain it spurred on him and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from releasing a pathetic noise. He let his body linger there until he had the courage and the energy again to move. Peeling his skin from the wall, removing scabs and bleeding again already he turned around to examine the image printed onto the wall from his own blood. What he saw made him want to vomit. His gut heaved and limbs nearly gave out, they would have if it weren't for the counter behind him to support his weight.

The image on the wall before him stared back in mockery, The blood began to leak down and smear from the trickles of water and wall sweat that lingered of his shower. Printed on the wall in a mirror of the one on his back, rested a circle encrypted with unknown runes to Dipper. The circle surrounded the very thing that made his gut churn. A triangle, with all three points connecting to the outer circle resided in the middle of the runes. At the very center points, lay an open eye, with a slit pupil aligned with his spine staring at him in condescending ruin.


	3. Spread the Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyysmut

Dipper spent the rest of his morning moping, curled up in the attic window and looking out its red stained glass onto the idiotic tourists and the beginning of the lush nature beyond them. It still beckoned him, calling for him to visit it again and reclaim its creatures as family. However, every time he attempted to move he was rattled with pain from his previous 'accident'. Not long after he had awoken and practically mutilated himself further in futile attempts to rid himself of these incriminating scars, Dipper had caved and began to conceal them instead. He had crudely wrapped up his hands and feet in a thick cloth to clot up the wounds. He looked own at his own hands and feet at the memory and grimaced at the speckles of blood seeping through the bandages. He had slapped a large, knee sized bandage on the back of his neck hoping it would do as a moderately decent cover-up. Lastly, he had very poorly tended to his back, he more or less just lathered on some Neosporin to ease the stings and slipped a baggy long sleeved shirt over his head. He could feel bits of blood here and there, wetting the fabric, making the fibers tacky and clingy against his skin. He couldn't get the memory out of his head, the hands that plastered themselves all over his body, holding him, making him feel so complete through mere contact and then suddenly forcing on him the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. Water pricked the corners of his eyes and he sniffled, wiping his nose and eyes clean with the back of his hand and barely flinching at the stings the action aroused. Turning his gaze from the patrons outside to looking back into his room, he mentally scolded himself at its filthiness. It was such a silly thought, but now with the actual sun shining in he could see the blotchy wood floors, pieces of trash and broken pencils littering every inch and not to mention the circle of candles now haphazardly strewn about the floor. A part of him wondered what Mabel would say. Oh god did he miss her, he wished she her were here, he wished he could call her to talk to her, cry to her and beg her to come home to him.

“ _Don't be stupid_ ,” he berated himself. “ _She's happier away from here. Away from you and your stupid craziness_ ,”. Dipper shuddered and hugged his knees tighter. “ _No one wants to mope around with your pathetic ass. Stewing in your grimy attic and panicking about a monster that's not even real._ ” But it had to be real, right? He wasn't just making up all those dreams. He pulled out his phone and quickly tapped into the little google search bar: _Am I crazy?_

Well shit now he was asking a search engine about his mental status. However, the websites offering quizzes seemed rather appealing. Was he schizophrenic? Bipolar? No he had to be Delusional? Disassociate? Maybe. What could give people nightmares but woke them up with real life injuries. Maybe he should go see a doctor. “ _No you can't do that stupid then everyone in town will know your just psychotic._ ” Oh Jesus Christ he was losing his mind over this. He tossed his phone aside and huffed out his aggression as it clattered to the floor. He pushed his face back into his knees so hard his eyeballs felt as if they were being pushed way back into his skull from the force of his knee caps pressing on them. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing after that, rubbing pale fingers through his hair as he shuddered weak little sobs into his knees. His tears soaking through the frabric of his sweatpants uncomfortably so. 

“ _**Stop crying.** _ ” He jerked his head up and almost fell out the window, that voice echoed through his room almost forcefully and scaring the shit out of him. Again. 

“No. No not again this is not happening again I'm just- just hearing things just fucking voices this is fucking perfect.” He pushed the heels of his palms against his ears and clenched his eyes as he ranted to himself. 

“ _You are not. Stop Crying._ ”

“It's not real this isn't real.”

“ _Yes, it is now-_ ” Dipper started shaking his head furiously, he lifted his hands from his ears only to slap them back down. He was trembling as he began a mantra of “No” and “Stop talking” and pounded his hands forcefully against his skull so hard it began to make him feel a throbbing inside of his said skull. “ _**STOP** _ ” Dipper really did scream this time, hands wrapped around his wrists and yanked him onto the floor, sprawled on his back now and held down by those familiar bony hands Dipper began screaming more. Maybe if he screamed loud enough someone would hear him, come upstairs and snap him out of his delusion. He didn't get very far into his plan before a third hand appeared and slapped over his mouth. 

“ _Open your eyes dammit look around. Look where you are._ ” Dipper didn't respond immediately, staying very still for a few long moments before curiosity got the better of him. His eyelids very slowly peeled back and allowed his vision to be graced by the washed out grey tones of his bedroom. The hands still held on tight, way longer than Dipper began to feel was necessary before the voice spoke again.” _Now. Im going to let go of you, you have to stop that incessant babbling nonsense. Its really annoying. Okay_ ?” Dipper blinked, once twice, then a third time for good measure. And very carefully he nodded his head in understanding. After a few seconds, the hands melted away and he pulled his wrists back into his chest to rub gingerly at the aching skin. 

“Where am I?” Dipper whispered, sitting up slowly to observe more of his surroundings. 

“ _Wow it hasn't been that long kid, don't tell me you already forgot what my reigning reality looks like?_ ” That voice. Holy shit it was THAT voice it was His voice. 

“This cant be the mindscape? Wasn't it destroyed, wait are you telling me you really are alive?”

“ _So many questions, not enough time Pine tree listen up cause I have quite the wish list for you._ ”

“No.” 

“..... _What? You don't even know what I'm-_ ”

“After last time? No. I'd rather not.” Dipper began to stand up, walking around his room. “You can't be Him. He would have showed up by now- egotistical little triangular bastard.”

“ _Woah kid! Offense taken, come on just cause you can't see me means you're gonna keep retelling yourself that stupid little mantra you were flipping out about earlier?_ ” The voice huffed, it was beginning to sound grated and strained- irritated. “ _I doubt you'd want to see me now. Everytime you have you've screamed at my present form. I mean I know it's a little gruesome but its not THAT bad kid._ ” 

“That was you? The fucking shadow, thing or whatever? Wait-what the hell why did you slit my throat what was that for?” Dipper pouted. 

“ _Just having some fun kid, besides, if you'd just listen to me I could explain it all to you._ ” Bill paused, Dipper didn't respond, and the body-less voice took that as the go ahead. “ _Okay. SO you smarty pants thought you killed me off. I can only hope that you puny little brain knows the one simple fact about pure energy, that important law that resides in every dimension? Surely you know the one._ ” Dipper mulled the words in his head, and after a second he opened his mouth. “Energy... Energy can't be created or destroyed.” It clicked. “You. You're pure energy, you're made of energy- you weren't destroyed you were just-”

“ _Yeah yeah you know it. I was scattered out your pathetic realm, little pieces and fragments floating around. In order for me to regain a form, I need my energy to be united back into a form. I need to regain all those lost particles – which is what you are going to do for me my little sapling._ ”

“Why should I help you? What have you ever done for me? Hah just last night you attacked me.”

“ _Don't be such a baby now. I only marked you. Its nothing but my eyes kid that's all I need. Well not really but its one of the simpler things I need. You gotta spread my word kid. Ever since my fall your little race has degraded all my eyes around town. I need you to put them back up. The more I see, the more I can regain my energy and get my form back._ ” The voice purred than, and Dipper felt the nail of a clawed hand trace gently over the back of his neck and sent a tingle of warmth and pleasure down his spine. That empty spot inside of him clinched. “ _I know what you've been feeling; empty, hopeless, just at a loss of what to do with your pathetic husk of a body. Dipper, I can fix that, fix you. Isn't that all you want? To enjoy your pathetic life again, run around in your little woods and chatter happily with that sister of yours?_ ” There were lips at his ear now and Dipper closed his eyes to sigh, his knees felt weak all of a sudden and his chest felt warm. “ _I can make it all go away...I can touch you._.” As if to prove his points a hand appeared from around his back and rested on Dipper's chest. He moaned, knees buckling as the black inside of him felt like it was being seeped out of his deepest cavities. “.. _And all that useless aching can be gone. Forever._ ” 

“Why...why do you need my help?” Dipper whispered, he couldn't make his voice any louder than a whisper, another hand touched his body and he groaned. 

“ _Because kid, I like you, you're my puppet. I have to take care of what's mine_.” The voice sounded breathless in both of his ears now and Dipper whimpered. “How do you...how do you know what Im feeling?”

“ _Cause I can feel it to. Inside myself, empty and pointless. Its like a heavy weight just_ -”

“Crushing my insides and taking over my head..” Dipper gasped, the digits touching him clenched a little tighter and a rush of _something_ strange rattled him down to his bones. The two were silent, heavy breathing was filling the room and Dipper found himself laying on the floor again. 

“ _Trust me. I know how you feel. I need this Pine tree. Dipper you need this just as much as I do._ ”

“If I help you...what'll happen?” The boy slurred, his eyelids fluttering shut. 

“ _If you help me get my energy. I can be with you, in your realm. We can make a hole big enough for just me to slip through. If we're in the same world, you won't have to feel this way anymore sapling_.” Dipper hummed, fingers gently brushed hair from his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. “ _I can hold you for real, suck that pain right out of you. I can do so much to you._ ” 

“Will you hurt me?” 

“ _Well if you're into that kind of thing-_ ”

“Dumbass I meant like- killing me. How should I know if you won't just off me once you get what you want?”

“ _How about a deal?_ ”

“Bill, no-” A hand closed over his mouth again and he groaned in annoyance. He swore he could feel like, three? Four hands on him now?

“ _Shh just listen to me. We are connected Pine tree. By the stars on your skin,_ ” Holy shit did Dipper just feel lips on his shoulder? He whined and shuddered almost convulsively, that inkiness inside wavered again. “ _To the stars inside myself,_ ” Another kiss to his opposite shoulder. “ _We are a prophecy Dipper. We are connected as much as you hate to believe me. We can make a deal if it will make you more easy going. A deal that will connect us, if I kill you Ill die. Vise-verse on you as well. It would be suicide to kill you._ ” Dipper's world spun, his eyes snapped open to find himself laying on his back. He could see a mass of shadows above him but he couldn't make it out as a distinct shape. He lost the effort of trying once he felt it press closer. Felt Him press closer. Hands slid up his sides and encircled his wrists. Something akin to a face pressed against his neck and Dipper was seeing stars. He could recognize the feeling of lips on his neck, below his ear and breathing that hot breath on wet skin. 

“B-b...Bill...” He gasped, his chest flipped, every time Bill's lips touched his skin the whole inside of him was sealed just a little bit more. He lost the ability to form coherent words as he felt jagged teeth scrape oh so gently down his neck and rest at his collar bone. His back arched and his eyes rolled back, his knees spread apart, making his heels dig into the wooded floor. He wanted to be closer, he wanted to feel more, he needed to. “Bill please..make it go away.” He gasped again and mewled, the lips moved down and rested above his sternum. He began to writhe below the shadowy form of Bill. Bill's form may have looked like a solid mass, solid enough to touch, to hold, but it barely felt like a graze when anything other than lips and hands touched him. 

“ _Is it a deal then Pine tree?_ ” He cooed. 

''Yes! Yes yes its a deal. Please keep- keep keep-”

“ _shhh shhhh calm down, don't worry Pine tree. I wont stop anytime soon._ ” Bill chuckled, suddenly those lips were back on Dipper's neck and he felt those dangerous teeth smiling against his skin. “ _You taste so good. That bad energy inside of you. I can suck it right out-it makes me feel like I'm burning from the inside out. It makes me feel so much stronger._ ”

“Please...take it out. Take all you need just-” He whimpered, tears slid down his cheeks. “I don't wanna feel so...broken anymore...” 

“ _Oh, Pine tree,”_ Bill cooed and ran fingers through Dipper's hair. “ _My little puppet, you are never to be broken. I will fix you, clean you, I can heal you._ ” Dipper felt tears roll down his cheeks, the words Bill uttered to him made his heart flutter, it made him feel warm inside and made something spark an interest deep inside in body. Specifically his lower regions. Dipper was going to open his mouth to speak again but he screamed. He screamed hands painted up on his form and slid over his skin. Up his shirt and raking nails over his flesh. Pressure began to build in his gut, pooling and coiling up as he arched up high. His neck looked as if it would snap from how he was bending his form. The hands circled his thighs and squeezed him in just the right places. It was when a hand began to wander lower, slowly down his stomach and teasingly light under the waistband of his pants. Warm weight, heavy and feeling so real just barely grazed the source of his rampid heat and whining.. The feeling was catharsis. Dipper's vision went blank as he felt his body contract, toes and fingers curled up tight, body wound and tight with convulsions as that pressure in the center of his chest felt like it was literally sucked from within him. He felt Bill's lips on the center of his chest, a grin on the demon's face. For a moment Dipper thought he could feel a solid body resting atop of him. But suddenly he was awake- in the real world. 

Brown eyes snapped open and a moan ripped from his throat in aftershocks of pleasure, his hips twitched and thighs tensed apart. His back rolled up from the floor before he let himself fall again. Panting and sweaty, he looked around to find that the colour scheme was back to normal. Dipper lay on the floor a mess, limbs sprawled apart and dampness sticking him to his clothes uncomfortably. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. Fucking peachy, now he had a mess between his legs he would have to clean up as well as his room.

 

“Spread the word. Spread the Eye. Bring Him back.” Dipper had found his new mantra. 


	4. Paint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little short, kind of a filler leading up to the next chapter because it was too much o add into one of the others so I just let it stand on it's own.

Dipper still thought of himself as crazy. Even after he peeled himself up off the floor and cleaned the mess off his body, scrubbing away the old blood and scabs of his tattoos. A part of his mind was nagging at how he just agreed to Bill's whims at the promise of a good touch. Though, it had been awhile since anyone touched him like that. Or even held him. Anymore Dipper was so isolated from the touch of other people he had kind of forgotten what it felt like, and the way Bill had rubbed and held him so tight, he shivered at the memory of those hands between his legs and nails scraping over his scalp. He bit the inside of his cheek in a failed attempt to choke down the thoughts. There was a voice in the back of his mind that still told him all of this was one long fever dream, that he was just a fucked up kid with sick fantasies. Though if Bill really could do as he promised, make all this mass of coldness that lingered in him go away- simply in return of a true form was it really that bad? He felt as if he would be asking a lot more questions the next time he ran into Bill- before he started getting his hands all over him.

Dipper found his thoughts still running around long after he climbed out of the shower. He took care this time, wrapping his hands and feet a little more properly and tending to his back and neck a little longer. He pulled on some old jeans and a ratted old hoodie with holes worn into the elbows and lower hem of the pockets. A lot of his clothes were pretty worn, he hated shopping for new clothes that was Mabel's thing, always had been. He tended to his messy locks, and by tended it was more like running his fingers through until there weren't any huge knots and leaving it be. After finding himself fully dressed and feeling a little more dignified in himself, he began to wander around his room. He held his journal up as he paced and jotted thoughts about his encounters with Bill. Now knowing that the thing had claimed to be Bill, and something about t screamed Bill towards Dipper as well.

“ _Spread the word,_ ” He wrote. “ _The eye. His eye?_ ” How do you spread an eye? He gave a small pout down at the pages in his arms. He twirled his trusty pen between his fingers and searched the page as if it would answer him itself. He moved to shove the end of his pen in his mouth and began to incessantly chew it's plastic. He always had a bad habit of doing that, he remembered over thinking so much something he'd eat right through and the pen would- he gagged, coughing out the ink that assaulted his tongue and spitting it onto the floor at his feet. Yeah, he did that. He looked down at his hand and groaned, the black ink dripped down onto his sleeve and bled through his bandages. He tossed the pen aside without care and began to peel off the fabric. Grumbling about the mess under his breath as he tossed the wrap aside too. He looked down to inspect the damage done to his skin, only a few ink splotches here and there it wasn't too bad. His eyes trailed over the scarring image embedding his hand. His own pupils locked onto the single line that made up His pupil, he brought it up to his face and looked closer, his eyes shifted focus to the wall behind it. His gaze darted between the two things for a bit, intense gaze shifting from the eye on his hand to the blank wall. Something about the wall being blank made him feel uneasy. It felt wrong, something was missing and it made Dipper feel angst. Dipper approached the wall, placing his palm against it and gasping. _That was it!_ The eye! All he had to do was put the image up on every inch, he could plaster it over the town's wall and trees and every little 'secret' crook and cranny he could imagine. He reeled back to grab a new pin and flipped to a fresh page in his journal. He scribbled down with harsh lines a sloppy image appearing on the page below him. The misshapen oval with three little lashes on each lid-symmetry- shit that was nice. He drew the single line as the pupil and ripped the page from his journal, dropping the book in the process as he stepped over it to stick it up against the wall. Finding some old tacky tape from one of his old monster posters and using that to stick it to the wall. He paid no mind as the older poster next to it fell to the floor, all he could focus on was the eye adorning his wall and he beamed proudly at it. Something felt so right, it felt so good seeing the eye. In his own eyes it looked so much brighter, colour seemed to be more present wherever he put the eye. It was beautiful, compared to the dull outlook he had begun to look at the world with, the visibly noticeable splash of colour gave Dipper some hope. Made his heart flutter in his chest as he ran down the stairs, bolted into the basement and began to drag old tins of paint and bottles of spray paint back up to his room. He wasted no time in assaulting every square inch of free wall paneling with the holy image. Dipper didn't stop until he felt his arm grow too sore to lift a brush or can once more. He didn't stop until his eyes were being assaulted with bright, heavy tones of colour stroking into his vision like art. His perception of his old grimy room soon changed into one of utter admiration. He sat on his knees in the middle of the floor. The triangular window behind him allowed the setting sun to cast the heavenly shape perfectly around him. Another image that made his heart flutter, he crawled around to grab a thick brush and slopped it full of white and now-tacky paint. He followed the edges of the light cast in. And after much careful tracing and gently turns to make those perfect angles he found himself sitting in his new shrine. Surrounded with eyes of different colours and sizes on his walls. The white outline around him made him feel warm, like he was being embraced. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he felt something he hadn't truly felt drown out all other emotions. Happiness.

 

3:00 A.M.

Dipper stayed in his bubble of warmth until well into the middle of the night. He stayed inside until all traces of natural light were dead and the moon was heavy high up in the stars. He pulled on gloves, sole heavy shoes, as well as a heavier jacket to keep himself warm in the chilled night. He slinked quietly out of the shack with a backpack full of paint in tote. He had a dark blue bandanna tied around his head, covering his nose and mouth from recognition and harsh paint fumes. Though he wouldn't lie, the nice little buzz he picked up from mystifying his room were rather pleasant.

Dipper was careful to trek along the more discreet paths not only heading into the main part of town, but also while traversing through it. He avoided parked cars and windows, he stuck to hiding out in the empty alleys and made sure he was utterly alone before he began his duty. He shook up a can of old black paint and began to spray His beautiful eyes onto the grungy brick walls. His breath was stolen from him when he finished and sore he was seeing the utter mural of beauty that it up the brick wall. For an instant it almost looked like it was pure gold before fading back to black. He stayed out for lord knows how long that night, Spraying eyes onto walls, dumpsters, even tackled a few garbage cans on storefronts and much smaller eyes in lower and upper corners of doors and sorts. Dipper was practically buzzing with excitement as he walked down the main street. His gaze was alight in the presence of shining golden eyes and heightened appearances of the naturally dulled colours from the town's normal scheme. Dipper was just about to head back into his home when the newspaper of a local grocer caught his eye. He didn't think it was really who he saw on the front, but the familiar gleam of evil in those creeper's eyes filled him with disgust. He grabbed the paper and held it in trembling hands, practically ripped it open to reveal more of that pig's disgusting face. “ _ **Former Sweetheart to Return**_ ” Oh Dipper wanted to vomit. All he could see was red as he filled with dread and disdain. His colours were deflating from his anger. That damn deceitful pig was going to come back to Gravity Falls. The Gleeful creep didn't deserve to be here, to smear disdain on his home and ruin his work. Cause that's all the brat ever did was ruin stuff. He tried to posses Mabel as an object and tried to kill Dipper for Christ's sake. The twerp never was the same after Wierdmageddon. For a brief moment Dipper found himself uttering dark thoughts. “He should have killed you the moment he found you alive.” Dipper angrily shredded up the paper in his hands and dropped it with a grimace before turning away sharply to storm back home.

Something wasn't right though, some big piece was still left untouched and he began to feel panic at the idea of not completing his job. His eyes were just beginning to look around fearfully before he heard a voice in the back of his head. “ _Look up,_ ” It whispered, silky smooth from the base of his skull, almost like it resonated from the eye at the base of his neck. His head jerked up on command. He stared in confusion for a hot minute before he smiled, oh, oh he knew what he had forgotten now. He chuckled at his foolishness and trotted his way up a familiar dirt path. One that stretched partly through the forest but didn't dip too far into its depths. He hummed idly as he walked on with an almost idle stature, casually Dipper strode up to the impending tower, the water tower of Gravity Falls. He nibbed his lips with little ease in mind as he adjusted the straps of his backpack tighter and began the climb up the tower's latter. Somewhere in the back of his mind was screaming that this was a bad idea, but he couldn't stop- literally he felt so little control over his body at this point he just had to out. He had to make Bill happy. These became the idea and purpose plastered in Dipper's head as he found himself shuddering in the cold gusts of the wind. It was all so much stronger from up here, but the town looked so beautiful with all its golden eyes every time he manage to catch a glimpse of it. When he finally reached the top of the tower he stopped to pant, resting shoulder against the tank and holding himself up by the hands on his knees. He took a few good moments before pulling out his trusty paint and getting to work.

“How the hell did Robbie do this?” Dipper muttered under his breath, that man and his stupid muffin- sadly a piece of work which still reside on the tower, but not for long if Dipper could help it. After a few excruciating minutes of careful navigation so as to fully look at his progress without throwing himself to certain death- he finally sighed in completion. Reveling in the warmth of gold that the eye emitted before the much smaller man. He turned away from the eye to look over Gravity Falls, the golden eyes glittered back and forth like secret little calling cards. Special and all for Dipper and Him alone to witness. It made him feel giddy, like it was a big secret to be kept between the two of them. Dipper sat down on the edge of the water tower's railing. His arms rested in the slots and legs dangling off the edge he sighed, only now realizing how exhausted he was. Sleep crusted up in the corners of his eyes, the balls burning in his skull for the ache of sleep. Dipper let his eyes slip shut for a few seconds, this time whenever he felt like that in pressure, the presence surrounding him Dipper didn't panic. Only sighed in relief as hands slid up his back and draped loosely around his shoulders.

“ _You did so well my little Pine tree,_ ” His voice whispered against the back of his neck and Dipper wanted to whine at the lack of lip to skin contact. “ _You can see what I see now, open your eyes and look out for me_ ,” Dipper complied with little refusal, he peeled open tired orbs and looked out at the monochromatic scheme of the sleepy town of Gravity Falls. He gasped, the eyes he painted were looking back at him, they shined at him in glowing approval and bathed him in a calming warmth. Dipper's eyes fluttered when he felt the arms slinking around him tighten and pull him closer. Those cold lips pressed into the back of his neck and he arched his chest forward. Sighing as the heavy weight of anger inside him subsided and his eyes went a little hazy.

“Y _ou're so angry Pine tree, relax kid. As much as I love how your emotions taste to me; There's too much work ahead of you for stupid things. So many great things to be taken care of_ ,” He kissed his neck again and the same sensation over took him. “ _But for now you must rest, we have a very busy schedule ahead of us,_ ” Dipper whined and shook his head. Much to Bill's amusement.

“Why? What do you mean busy? I thought all I had to do was paint your stupid little eyes everywhere,” They weren't stupid. They were mesmerizing, beautiful, blessing. Bill just chortled against Dipper's back and shook his head. A bony hand came up and wrapped gently around Dipper's jaw. “Y _ou have to get prepared. We have guests coming very soon_.”

“Guests? Like, what monsters? Demons? Shit Bill are you going to open another rift and cause hell? I don't think I'm up for that yet.”

“ _As much as those things sound good to me, no I'm afraid not I don't have the energy yet for any of that yet. No. You have some guests coming. I can still keep an eye on enemies my dear sapling. Looks like Ol' Sixer and Fez are coming back home._ ”


	5. A Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how Bill knew Stan and Ford were coming back home? hmmm

“Stan?” A voice rang into the darkness, husky but clear and thick with age. A tall, elderly (in body not mind) echoed around. Bouncing in a total darkness that seemed to swallow out his vision, preventing him from determining his current predicament. Ford walked along, the heels of his shoes clicked against the floor of ink as he pushed himself further into the darkness of his dream. He knew this was a dream, well mentally he did, but his body acted through as if it were totally normal and not a reaction from his brain forming images and choking him with conspicuous and unconscious thoughts. Ford pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes in any attempt to allow even the slightest light to penetrate his vision. Much to his pleasure it did the trick, kind of, it at least allowed him to focus enough to see the rough and melted outline of a building. His feet were walking a little quicker and he bounced up to the mirage, his hands outreached and feeling for something in the darkness. His hands brushed against a railing made of splintery wood. Holding onto the beam he lifted a ginger foot to feel for steps, and after a couple careful moments of blind touches he believed he was standing on a platform, a porch? He wasn't sure honestly, what he was sure of now was that he could see a rectangle of gold before him. His eyes blinked hesitantly and adjusted to the light, was that a door? It had to be, that means there was a light inside of the building he was standing before, thank gods. Those same, six-fingered hands reached out, brushing against the rough texture of the definite door and grabbed for a door knob, when he found it he sighed in relief as it gave way with a twist. He wasn't assaulted by the light per-say, but rather caught off guard. The room was littered with candles, candles which were burning such in immense amount and brightness he rubbed eye his eyelids to ease the sting. He walked in and payed no mind to the door that slammed shit behind him, looking around he recognized this place. This was the living room of the mystery shack! He looked with a fond look, admiration bubbled in his chest as he fondly recalled of his nephew and niece, and that pig too. Gosh, it had been awhile since he and Stand had visited the shack- last he heard Dipper was moving in to help around the shack while he attended college. As he found himself getting lost I thought his breathing stopped when something creaked up above him. The soft groans of footsteps on the upper level of the shack startled him, but something about them made just the right amount of unease and anxiety bubble up his throat and worry his mind. He grabbed one of the candles closest to him and allowed his curiosity to drag him up the stairs, creaking and crying loudly under his feet- a noise that seemed all to loud for that very moment and made him wonder why whoever else was here wasn't saying or revealing themselves to him. Of course this was all still just a dream, right?

“Hello?” Ford called out, stepping onto the even flooring now and walking himself down the hall. His candle's flame flickered and jumped around, light licking the walls a mere few feet before his face before cutting off into darkness. Ford stopped himself to listen to the old house, he counted a good , heavy second or two before he heard the faint creaking of steps yet again. It took his a few concerned seconds before realizing the noises were coming from the attic. ' _Isn't that Dipper's room?_ ' Ford thought, mumbling incoherently under his breath as he started towards the attic. Once his candle's light graced the image of the attic door before him he leaned forward just enough to hold his ear near its surface, listening inside for the same creaks, or even a familiar voice. What he heard was much more unsettling, faint little whispers were being uttered in rushed sentences, the sound of huffing and panting and the shuffling, ruffling of papers and other inanimates were just barely audible through to Ford's side of the door. ' _Is that Dipper? Is he okay?? Maybe I should.._ ' His heart lurched when he heard another voice, a higher voice that was speaking in low hushed tones. Ford could recognize it as another male's voice, perhaps older than dipper, simply based on how rough it spoke and the depths it reached. Ford had to breath in deep through his nose in order to not throw his shit out the window right there. His six-fingered hand reached out just enough to graze the door, feeling it waver against his touch he realized it was just barely opened a sliver. He held an unknown breath as he pressed a little more and the door opened enough for him to peek in. His eyes went hazy for a split second, and then focused their gaze on a figure in the middle of the room. The form was smaller than him significantly, but still large enough to be identified, and its face was lit enough by the circles of candles that burned around it. It was Dipper. The boy was hunched over his arms, his legs were tucked against the floor and he looked to be wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, or maybe those were boxers that was not what Ford was focusing on. No, what he was looking at were the markings littering his body, he had designs inked into the majority of his back and his arms were littered din cuts and bruised. There were smaller bruises that peppered the back of Dipper's neck, where Ford's eyes blew wide at the image tattooed there. Staring at the black eye which he swore was looking right through him. The older man wanted to step forward, to touch his nephew and hold him, but some instinctual factor was taking over his actions and he was frozen to his spot, eyes wide as he watched.

Before his eyes he could only see the shaking shoulders belonging to a beat up Dipper. The boy was whispering what sounded like gibberish and rocking slowly on his knees, back and forth, back and forth to a silent rhythm. Suddenly the candles flickered, and Dipper's body tensed, his arms curled up before they fell limp on either side of him. His panting grew louder, as well as little desperate and frustrated noises. Ford didn't have to see his face to imagine that the poor kid's face was clenched and glittering with sweat. Ford's heart was pounding at his ears and against his brain. With Dipper's arms now lying in better view of Ford, the older man noticed deep lines of liquid oozing down and dripping off his finger tips. The liquid looked black and sticky, it clung in heavy trails on Dipper's skin and globbed into thick puddles on the floor. It wasn't until he saw this new creep factor that Ford smelt the heavy scent of metal wafting around the air. If it weren't for many decades stuck in another dimension and dealing with much more gruesome things he would have puked at the overbearing stench. Ford's eyes widened whenever he found himself stepping into the room further. One hand was limp by his side and the other still held up the candle, holding the light out at arm's length allowed the man to see Dipper in a more focused light. His pupils twitched as they tried to focus on those odd markings that blurred all over Dipper's back. The closer he got the more he could focus on them, the more his heart fell into his chest at the realization of what those runes were saying, what they were claiming his nephew's body to be. He still couldn't see much in the darkness engulfing the two people there, but what he did see made his heart stopped. Two reflective surfaces were about at Ford's eye level, staring him dead on and filling his old heart with dread. Before his thoughts could gather the door slammed shut behind him, startling him into dropping the candle and feeling helplessness wash over him after being flooded into darkness. He gulped in much needed huffs of air and turned over his shoulder, he saw only shadows and he whipped his head in front of him again at the sound of soft creaking.

“Grunkle Ford?” That small, broken voice piped up from its spot on the floor. Ford looked down and winced back at the sight. His nephew was still on his knees with his arms behind his back now and limp as noodles. In fact, the boy's entire body looked like a puppet. Dipper's head was snapped back, exposing that pale neck. His back was bent at a sharp and painful looking angle that pushed his ribs abnormally far from the excruciating degree.

“Dip...Dipper...Dipper what's going on? I'll-Here let me-” He reached down, he was stepping close to pull the man up off the floor, he didn't get very close however, something hit his chest hard, making it feel like he was shot by a bullet and slammed onto his back down to the floor. His vision went double as he tried to catch his breath, struggling to right his position and get back up to his knees. He didn't get far, his blurry eyes settled back on Dipper in front of him. The boy's body was bent even further in half and head dangling uselessly on a neck. A neck that had a skinny hand wrapped around it. Long fingers stark against white skin, right before his eyes hands began pushing up from the ground. They slid like silent predators, grazing up Dipper's skin and enveloping him with those long loose fingers. Ford began to sputter out warning as a large form grew into focus right in front of Dipper, stalking and looming over his boy's bent up body. The dark creature's body began to dissipate, wisps of smoke floating low to the ground and building up around the room. Ford's eyes trailed carefully as those snake-like tendrils of smoke were slithering and passing over Dipper's face. Those little slivers sneaked greedily passed Dipper's lips, they smoke out his lungs and crowded up his nose, the boy's chest stuttered and his eyes rolled back. Ford sat in silent terror, seconds turned into moments of Dipper sitting there like that, being suffocated. Dipper's eyes snapped open after the last bit of smoke snaked in and corrupted him. His eyes no longer held that light of happiness with warm brown irises, but now were dull and glassy, yellow and diseased. Dipper's head snapped around with his shoulders and torso, his body twisted in two as arms contorted and crawled his upper portion towards his great uncle. His legs dragged backward on his body before they spread and twisted to sit correctly once again on his body. Ford jolted back, the sound of popping and creaking bones and muscles grating on his ear drums, making his stomach churn and eyes water at the mere gruesome sight.

“Dipper? Dipper snap out of this! Dipper wake the hell up boy!” Ford rattled, he kept crawling back, Dipper's paced picked up and he creeped his way up into the older man's face with a sickening grin, from his lips dribbled black blood and clotted up on the front of Ford's shirt.

“I don't wanna wake up old man,” Dipper's- no that wasn't Dipper. The male's young voice was in there somewhere but it was buried behind a mountain of crackling, echoing voices bouncing around the room. “I wanna stay asleep forever, but..” He cooed, leaning down and popping his shoulders from their sockets, Ford lurched at the sound. “I think you should,”

 

Ford jolted up so quick his head slammed into the extremely low ceiling, the force pushed him back down into his creaky little cot and he rolled over too quick to catch himself as he tumbled from the bed. Laying on the floor his heart was beating hard in his chest. By the time his disoriented mind seemed to collect its thoughts he rubbed at his temple, groaning and pushing himself to sit up. He could feel the familiar, rhythmic rocking of the waters beneath surface of he and Stan's boat. He could hear the steady sounds of steps from above his head and his body shivered in a quick lapse in memory. Those steps up above him started to grow louder and nearer to him, and off to his side a small door was pushed open and he looked over to see his brother, Stan, walking in.

“You alright down here poindexter I could hear you from up on deck? If you're seasick again can you at least hurl it over the side of the boat this time and not on it?” Stan grumbled in his usual, husky and gurgle of a voice. Cocking his brow when he stepped close and examined his twin closer. “Why are you on the floor? I ain't that bad a driver- and what's that nasty shit on you? Squid ink?” Ford's breathing stuttered, his eyes widened as he now took notice on the way his shirt clung to his chest, it was stiff and wet. His eyes slowly slipped lower and his gaze landed on a splotch of black colouring staining the front of his shirt. He slowly raised one f six shaky digits and gathered a bit up onto his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. The dream wasn't all fake, it meant something, he had to help Dipper. This was a warning, he could feel it, he had to get back to Gravity Falls.

“Stan,” Ford muttered, breathless. “We have to go see Dipper,” Ford mourned.

“Wait, what?”


End file.
